


for we are the beautiful thieves

by caimani



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Archaeologists, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caimani/pseuds/caimani
Summary: Keith and Lance go undercover (sort of) at General Iverson's gala to steal back an Altean artifact the general stole while treasure-hunting. Keith's job? Sneaking away in the middle of the party to find the artifact. Lance's job? Looking pretty in a dress.





	for we are the beautiful thieves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Red_and_R3d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_and_R3d/gifts).



> Inspired by this [awesome art](http://redvioletz-art.tumblr.com/post/171228495925/trying-to-get-back-into-the-swing-of-drawing-my). And by "inspired" I mean I looked at that and yelled about how much I love my friend's art and came up with this au.
> 
> also theres like brief discussion about sexual creepiness but I promise nothing bad happens

“You excited about this?” Lance asks.

Keith is sitting beside him in the back seat of the car, tapping his knee anxiously. It’s hot seeing him in a tuxedo, even if it is just a solid black one. It’s important that he doesn’t stand out too much tonight. Not when this is their best chance at stealing the artifact for Allura. The ancient ceremonial jeweled necklace. Iverson’s security is too tight for them to get in any other way.

“Yes,” Keith finally admits. 

Iverson Manor is finally visible in the rapidly approaching distance. Lance forces himself to calm down again. They’ve done this kind of thing before, albeit on a much smaller scale with much less to lose. 

“We’ve got this,” he says, to reassure both Keith and himself. Keith nods. 

The outside of the manor is slightly crowded with guests in expensive dresses and suits, and almost a dozen of Iverson’s security staff. Lance eyes the security, quickly assessing them. They’re armed, which isn’t surprising considering the kind of person Iverson is. But nowhere near as heavily as usual. Good. Hopefully that means Iverson is just showing off. Or he’s trying to intimidate his guests.

Keith catches Lance’s gaze as their car draws closer and closer to the manor. He smirks and winks. Lance swats at him playfully. Jeez, he’s trying to get in a serious mindset for this heist and Keith is trying to make him laugh. It’s comforting, but he rolls his eyes and shakes his head anyway. 

“Ready to steal that thing from right under Iverson’s nose?” he says to Keith.

Keith nods. “Let’s do this.”

The car pulls up to the entrance of the manor. Matt steps out of the driver’s seat and comes around to their door to open it for them. Keith steps out first, and then turns to help Lance out. 

The hundreds of tiny crystals sewn into Lance’s midnight blue ballgown immediately start glittering in the light. As he moves confidently forward, hanging on Keith’s arm, he notices several of the security staff staring at the dress. Good. One part of the plan is already working. 

Keith shows their invitation to a trio of security guards at the door, who hand it back to him with barely a glance. Oh, if Iverson could see his security now. Lance bats his eyelashes playfully at them, thrilled at how quickly they look away. The dress shows off just enough curves to make him appear androgynous, and his makeup and hair complete the mysterious appearance. Lance is _gorgeous_ and he and Hunk worked hard to accomplish that. Beside him, Keith is attractive, but less far memorable. 

Which is also important to their plan. 

They pass through the doors into the grand entrance hall, where guests are mingling and chatting with each other. Music from an orchestra can be heard, but only faintly over the noise of the party. Iverson is right in the middle of it all, surrounded by people and gesturing at one of the many huge paintings he has displayed on the walls. Lance glances at it as he takes in the whole room.

The most impressive artwork isn’t in this grand hall, Lance knows. This is where Iverson puts the larger pieces with less considerably value. While Iverson likes to brag about his ‘acquisitions’ from both his military and treasure-hunting conquests, he’s not stupid enough to flaunt them in his entrance hall. Especially not with over a hundred people wandering around. 

He still seems to be proud of the art in here, however. Lance can easily see plenty of security staff in the grand hall, standing at regular intervals around the perimeter. 

There are a number of other doors open, and Lance remembers what each one leads to, since they did as much research on Iverson Manor as they could before this. The ballroom, a library, a drawing room, a study. As soon as he has the right chance, Keith needs to get to the library, so he can sneak through Iverson’s supposedly secret doorway to his supposedly secret trophy room below. Of course, that will have to be later in the night, when the security guards will be more occupied watching inebriated guests. 

A waiter approaches them with a tray full of champagne flutes and Keith and Lance each take one. 

Lance squeezes Keith’s arm. “Come on, Keith.” 

Keith has an unsure look on his face. Now that they’re surrounded by all these people, there’s a whole different mood from earlier in the car. Lance leans close and whispers, “I’m right here with you.”

Keith relaxes at that, and they start the next part of the plan.

The first hour or so passes slowly but without incident. Iverson is busy with other guests, and it’s easy enough to mingle with the other guests, who are all familiar with the Shirogane family. Keith plays his role well; mentioning Takashi’s busy schedule and how he’s happy to be here in his brother’s place. It’s kind of strange hearing Keith talk about the Shirogane business and make small talk with people that Lance never really associated with Keith’s eccentric family. He knows the Shirogane name is the whole reason they had an invitation to Iverson’s gala. But it’s so weird seeing Keith, who would rather be riding a motorcycle around in the desert, laughing politely with so many stuffy rich people.

At least Keith doesn’t have to suffer through these conversations alone. Lance knows enough to sweet-talk people into thinking he’s somebody. Keith introduces him as a model, which is actually accurate, although complicated. But thankfully he doesn’t have to explain it to anyone, because ‘model’ is basically synonymous with ‘pretty but unimportant.’

So Lance listens attentively, laughs cutely at the right moments, and asks just the right questions to make everyone believe he’s nothing but a cute airheaded model that the younger Shirogane son brought along to the gala. 

As soon as an elderly couple excuse themselves from Lance and Keith, Lance takes Keith’s hand and starts walking him towards the ballroom. 

“We’re here to have a good time, aren’t we?” he says. They walk past a security guard, and Lance automatically take note of how utterly bored the men around the room appear. 

That’s a good sign. They might be able to pull this off sooner than they were expecting. But they should still wait just a bit longer. 

Inside the ballroom, a fair number of couples are dancing, while even more are gathered in clusters around the edge of the room. The music is stronger here, played by a small orchestra in the corner of the room. It’s just loud enough that Lance thinks they’ll be able to talk freely in here, so long as they keep their voices down.

Keith sweeps Lance straight into a simple dance in step with the music. Lance can’t help the proud smile that spreads across his face when Keith doesn’t immediately step on his skirt.

“You’re doing good,” he teases.

Keith’s face immediately twists with annoyance. “This is hard, okay? You know I don’t do this. Bad enough I have to try and remember all that stuff with. You know. All that back there.” He lets out a shaky sigh. “I thought I was gonna get something wrong and it would ruin everything.”

Lance shakes his head. “You did great in there. They liked you more than they liked me.”

Keith shoots him a look. “Clearly you haven’t been noticing how some of them are looking at you.”

Lance scoffs. “Are you jealous?”

“Yes.” The blunt honesty of that shouldn’t surprise Lance, not since they’ve been… together or whatever they are, for over a year. Hell, Keith has said things like that before, but still. Lance is never quite ready and each time, it stuns him and exhilarates him all at once. Keith’s face is a bit red at his admission, but he looks serious and adds, “Look at you! You’re… you’re beautiful.”

Fuck, compliments like that from Keith always leave Lance at a complete loss for words. Thankfully, Keith changes the topic before they get too distracted from their very important goal.

“We’re still doing the whole—” Keith pauses as a couple dances a bit too close to them, and now Lance _does_ notice the others’ eyes on him. It’s the whole point of his dress, but it is exciting to see it’s working on more people than the security staff.

“Nothing too big or loud,” Lance whispers. He presses closer to Keith, leaving a brief kiss on his cheek. “We argue, you leave me here, I pout until you come back in a better mood to enjoy the rest of the night together.” He moves back again, nerves starting to flutter in his stomach. He hates leaving Keith to do his sneaky thing alone, but this is how the plan has to work. Or at least, this is what they decided on. 

Keith takes a breath to calm himself. Then he abruptly stops their dance. Lance stumbles slightly against him.

“What?” Lance says.

Keith is pretending to be upset, but it’s almost comical how fake it looks to Lance. Lance has seen him animatedly yelling at incorrect maps after they’ve gone thirty miles in the wrong direction. Or two seconds away from fighting a treasure hunter with no regard for the local culture. Or… many things actually. Keith gets angry at a lot of things. He has had some intense bursts of emotion, but he’s not much of an actor. 

“What would you know?” Keith says. It’s good his voice is still low, because he’s barely keeping to one of the scripts they practiced before this. “You’re just…”

He turns to try and storm away, but Lance catches him by the arm, pretending that he’s trying to discreetly calm Keith down and failing. They’ve probably attracted some attention by it, which is good. 

“Can you at least tell me what I said wrong?” Lance asks. There’s not much context for that line, since Keith jumped right into the middle of one of the scripts they had practiced. It doesn’t really matter though. The orchestral music has faded a bit, enough for the closest guests to catch a few bits of their ‘argument,’ but their body language speaks for itself.

Keith looks at Lance and then turns sharply away. He shakes his arm free. “You couldn’t _possibly_ understand.”

Lance’s lips tighten. “Alright then,” he says coldly, backing away from Keith. “If you’re going to be like that, then go on. Come back when you feel like _talking_ to me like an actual _person_.”

He whirls dramatically away from Keith, ready to march off and look for another waiter with a champagne tray, when all of a sudden, Iverson appears in front of him.

Oh shit.

Lance blinks quickly to recover. He hopes the stunned look on his face can be interpreted as embarrassment and fidgets slightly. 

“General Iverson,” he says, the discomfort coming completely naturally. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a scene—”

“You didn’t,” Iverson says. He looks behind Lance. “I’m sorry to see your date has left you.”

Lance hesitates. He can play this for a while, but he really, really hopes Iverson isn’t one of those creepy old guys who likes people much younger than him. He hasn’t heard any rumors like that, but he’d rather not find out the hard way.

Lance shakes his head. “I can’t blame him. It’s not really that bad, what just happened, but he…” Lance sighs, playing up the hopelessness. “He’s been under a lot of stress lately. I suppose a party wasn’t the best idea for getting away from it after all.”

“I know what you mean,” Iverson says. “I find travel to be a much more enjoyable hobby.” Oh, Lance knows exactly what he means by that. “May I have your name?”

“Angel,” Lance says, regaining some comfort in the fake identity he’s been presenting all evening. He’s not Lance the archaeologist’s assistant and occasional thief, he’s a silly model in a pretty dress. “I’m just Mr. Shirogane’s guest tonight.” Unfortunate that he has to bring Keith’s surname to Iverson’s attention, but hopefully he’ll just remember them as a foolish young couple.

Iverson nods, no doubt belatedly recognizing Keith as the quieter Shirogane son who tends to stay out of the public eye. (Which is due to the fact that he spends most of his time researching ancient civilizations with Lance, running around to remote corners of the world with a hundred old books and decaying maps as guides.)

“Until he returns, you may be my guest tonight,” Iverson says. “Would you like to dance?”

Lance really doesn’t want to dance with General Iverson, but... It’s only polite to accept. At least so far, the guy is nowhere near as creepy as Lance had previously feared. Then again, he’s a war profiteering military general who likes to go on treasure-hunting expeditions to steal local artifacts. He collects illegally obtained art from the black market, desecrates sacred places, and who knows, probably hunts big game for sport too. There’s more than one way to be a horrible human being.

Lance lets Iverson take his hand and lead him onto the dance floor. The general is a much better dancer than Keith, but the music is faster than before, so Lance has to concentrate on his footing. It’s incredibly unnerving dancing with Iverson, but he’s good at leading Lance, and Lance is keeping up with him.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Iverson says, about a minute into the dance. “Apart from what happened earlier.”

Lance smiles. “It's fun, but I don't really do this kind of thing with Keith very much. It's all very impressive, though. The music, the art. You have good taste, General.”

Iverson doesn’t exactly smile, but his eyes gleam at that compliment. “If you’re interested in classical art, then you might enjoy the collection in my gallery upstairs.”

Lance makes an interested expression and encourages Iverson to continue, inwardly hoping that Keith is having a much less nerve-wracking experience than him.

~~~~~

Keith arrives at the library without being followed, which is a relief. There’s a loud, drunk crowd of younger guests in front of the doors that he has to duck around, but no other obstacles. And finally, he’s in the library.

There are people in here, but only a middle aged woman lying passed out on a couch near the window and a graying man fanning himself beside her. The man looks absolutely exhausted and doesn’t notice Keith enter the library. Keith takes advantage of that and walks silently around the room to a large wall hanging in a corner of the library. If their information is correct, the door to Iverson’s hidden treasure room is behind that hanging. 

Although it’s in a corner of the library, the hanging is still uncomfortably out in the open, with absolutely nothing to cover him if anyone else enters the library. But the lights, turned low for the gala, just might be dim enough if he doesn’t move too quickly. 

At least Keith knows there’s no security cameras in the library. That had been confirmed before they started making their plans, and it did make sense why Iverson would do that. It was impossible to trust every single security guard, and someone like Iverson wouldn’t want anyone else knowing where he hid the more sensitive pieces of art and treasure. Hunk had joked that Iverson was sort of like a dragon in that way.

Carefully, Keith moves the wall hanging away from the wall. Sure enough, there’s a small door there, and a wave of relief washes through him to see that confirmed.

Unfortunately, it looks like the door needs a key. 

Keith grits his teeth. He looks back at the couple on the couch—still oblivious to him—and then examines the door. Okay, at least it doesn’t need a key card or fingerprint scanner. It looks pretty old, probably part of the original manor. And Keith has a lock picking tool on him, although it’s not as good or fast as the larger set he has back at home. 

But it’s better than nothing. He gets to work as quickly as he can, doing his best to split his attention between the lock and the noise of the gala just outside the library.

Soon, the lock clicks open and Keith hesitates, glancing back to make sure nobody has noticed.

He’s still safe. Keith opens the door just wide enough to fit through and slips in as fast as he can move. He shuts the door carefully behind him.

There’s a tiny amount of light from a small crack under the door. Enough for Keith to see he’s in a very tiny stairwell spiraling straight downwards. Keith takes a few seconds to let his eyes adjust, and then carefully starts to make his way down. There’s a handrail that follows the stairs down, cold and stone just like the stairs. 

Keith’s heart is pounding. Nothing bad has happened yet, but one wrong step and he could fuck up everything. He reaches the bottom of the stairwell and pauses again.

He can still hear the gala above him, but it’s more muffled now. Keith squints around in the darkness, but he can’t make out much of anything. So Keith reaches into his pocket for his penlight. 

_Please let there be nobody waiting in the dark down here,_ he thinks. 

He turns the light on.

Keith breathes in sharply at what the light reveals. The room isn’t large, but it’s full. Shelves and shelves of artifacts, paintings hanging on the walls, several tables and desks upon which rest several larger items. Cultures and civilizations that Keith both does and does not recognize. Anger starts to burn in Keith’s chest as he starts to pick out things that he _knows_ have supposedly been missing for years.

For a moment, Keith imagines reporting Iverson, bringing authorities down here to reveal the general’s illegally obtained collection. But that… he can’t do that. The most important thing right now is the necklace. They can figure out what to do about the rest of this later. Because now that Keith has seen this, he knows he won’t be able to let it go. He has to get this all returned to the rightful owners: temples, tribes, descendants.

Keith points the light down at the floor, then back up the stairs to make sure he didn’t trip an alarm wire. It looks like he’s safe, so he hurries over to the shelves containing Altean artifacts. 

There’s a lot, and Keith can’t even begin to imagine the significance of some of the things. He knows he can’t take them all, unfortunately. So he hunts through the shelves methodically, until he reaches the necklace. 

Well, there are actually three Altean necklaces on one of the shelves. Keith can pick out which is the old ceremonial one that Allura described to him, but the other two look just as old. Maybe she doesn’t know about them? Whether they’re significant or not, Keith refuses to leave them in Iverson’s possession any longer.

He very carefully takes each of the three necklaces and slides them into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He hates treating ancient things like this, but it’s the only way he’s going to get them out of here without anyone noticing.

Keith takes one last look around the room, letting fresh anger fill him at how fucking selfish and senseless Iverson is for taking these. For having all of these. Keith clenches his fists, furious and also really glad that he doesn’t have his knife on him or else he knows he’d hunt Iverson down as soon as he leaves this treasure room.

Then he starts back for the stairs, turning off the penlight as he ascends. At the top of the stairs, he pauses. He has no idea if the coast is clear out there. He cracks the door and peers out, but it’s impossible to tell.

Keith swallows. Very carefully, he opens the door a little more.

“What the hell?” someone exclaims, far too close to the door. Keith panics for a split second, and then shoves the door open the rest of the way as hard as he can. It knocks into someone, and there’s a heavy thud as the person falls to the floor.

Keith darts out of the stairwell, keeping his body close to the ground. The guy—a security guard, just his fucking luck—is struggling to get up, groaning and clutching at his face. Keith charges at him and punches him in the face as hard as he can. His blow knocks the security guy backwards, cracking his head against the floor and immediately falling unconscious.

Thank fuck.

Keith escapes the library, taking cover with a group of older ladies giggling to themselves at the edge of the great hall. He tries to let his heart rate return to normal as he passes smoothly from one group to another. Keith relaxes himself, doing his best to seem like a bored young guy looking around the gala for his date. 

Keith _is_ looking for his date, but he needs to lose himself in the crowd first. They aren’t sure where Iverson has security cameras in the great hall, so he needs to wander around for a while, just in case Iverson later checks his security cameras. It’s another reason why Keith’s appearance is so ordinary. It’s easier to lose himself in the crowd like this. 

Finally, when Keith feels that he’s been careful enough, he begins looking for Lance. He starts in the ballroom, since he doesn’t think it’s been too long since he left him.

But he doesn’t see Lance where he’s expecting to find him, which would be in the corners or the edges of the room with a champagne glass in hand.

No, Lance is right in the center of the dancefloor. On Iverson’s arm, as the damned military general-thief passes him over to some younger military-looking guy. For a dance.

Keith sees red. He’s already storming over before he can think better of it.

Then Lance catches sight of him and smiles. Keith freezes. 

Oh shit. Shit, he really could have screwed things up there. He’s got the fucking necklaces in his jacket pocket, and he can’t afford to be reckless now.

“There you are, Keith!” Lance says, waving sweetly at him. Keith’s heart flutters. The guy dancing with Lance stops, although his hand remains on Lance’s waist. His hand should not be on Lance’s waist. Keith would love nothing more than to grab the knife that Lance has strapped to his calf and cut the guy’s damned hand off, but— No. Not a good idea.

He advances a little awkwardly. “L—” no, Lance is Angel right now, “—Look. What I said earlier… I’m sorry, Angel.”

Lance beams and glides forward into his arms. He throws his arms around Keith’s neck in a display of affection that’s probably overdramatic, but it’s nice. Keith embraces him back, caught in a whirlwind of emotion at this new situation.

Lance is fine, Keith is fine, but _Iverson_ is right there, but Iverson doesn’t know anything has happened yet, but _Iverson probably danced with Lance damn it_ , but Lance is about to dance with Keith probably, but—

“Thank you for entertaining me, General,” Lance says smoothly.

“Thank you,” Keith says, a bit belatedly. “I’m sorry for… for earlier.”

Iverson waves him away. “I trust you’ll learn to appreciate your companion better in the future, Mr. Shirogane. It will be nice to see you two at my next gala.”

Keith feels another conflicting twist in his chest at that. It’s a chance to get another artifact away from Iverson’s greedy hands, although it might be too risky next time if Iverson finds out. No, Iverson _will_ find out, once that security guard wakes up. At least that guy didn’t get a good look at Keith’s face. 

Keith nods. “Thank you, General Iverson,” he says.

Keith and Lance wait as Iverson and the other man both leave. Lance clings to Keith’s arm and leans close, a hopeful look on his face. 

“You got it?” Lance whispers.

“Yeah, I got it,” Keith says, lifting his free hand to brush against the shape of the necklaces in his jacket pocket. He’s bursting to tell Lance about everything he saw down there, but that can wait until they’re safely away. Instead, he walks with Lance out of the ballroom. 

“That’s good,” Lance says, leaning his body even closer to Keith. Lance must be relieved, now that the most stressful part of the plan is done. It must have been just as bad for him, having to dance around with Iverson while waiting for Keith to return. 

Now it’s just a waiting game until it’s socially acceptable and not suspicious to leave. Keith and Lance wander more freely around the open areas of Iverson Manor, examining the art on display. Lance points out some pieces, informing him that Iverson told him some of the history behind the pieces. The whole time, Lance stays close to Keith, helping to cover the barely-noticeable shape in Keith’s pocket that is slightly larger than they originally planned. 

But things are going great. Keith and Lance stop to talk with more guests, and eventually end up returning to the ballroom. As he and Lance are following a rowdy crowd of drunk revelers to the ballroom, Keith spots Iverson hurrying into the library, surrounded by several of his guards. 

“Uh oh,” he whispers to Lance, pointing it out. 

Lance winces. “Did anyone see you?”

“No,” Keith says. “Not… not really.” Lance looks horrified, so Keith quickly explains, “Someone saw the door opening, but I knocked them out before they could get a good look at me.”

Lance doesn’t look comforted by that. “So he knows someone stole something from him?”

“I mean… I guess so. But don’t panic. Don’t look suspicious, right?” Keith squeezes Lance’s hand reassuringly. They’ve made it to the dancefloor now, so they start dancing.

Lance has a small frown on his face as he thinks. “If… okay, Iverson can’t possibly know _what_ was stolen yet. And he can’t keep everyone here, or check everyone’s pockets as they’re leaving. He can’t admit to what might have been stolen either, since that won’t look good for him. So… so we should just stick with our plan.”

Keith nods.

It’s kind of exhausting pretending to just be some dumb rich fool for another hour. Lance makes it easier, and they stay in the ballroom for the majority of the time. Actually, the time he spends dancing with Lance is probably the best part of this whole thing. 

In between dances, they leave the ballroom to find a bathroom. They lock the door and finally move the ancient, fragile necklaces from Keith’s pocket to the pouch (lined with material far more suitable for keeping them safe) sewn onto the inside of Lance’s skirt. Keith gets a bit flustered when Lance shamelessly lifts up his skirt to get to the pouch. Lance, of course, immediately starts teasing him for it, so Keith pushes him against the bathroom wall and kisses him to shut him up. It doesn’t really work, but he gets to enjoy a few minutes of making out with Lance in between jokes about getting his hands under Lance’s skirt.

Finally, larger groups of guests begin to break away from the party to leave. Keith and Lance wait until the first wave has left, and then they make their exit as well.

The security at the exit is noticeably heavier than it was when they arrived. Twice as many security guards have their eyes on them, and Keith is glad to have moved the artifacts out of his pocket. But like Lance guessed, the guards don’t bother them, and Keith and Lance leave with an air of carefree happiness.

And then they’re back in the car. Lance grabs a pair of gloves and removes the necklaces from the pouch to carefully place them in a case sitting ready in the car. Keith leans back and shuts his eyes as soon as he sees the case close. Now he can relax. Matt’s driving them away, Iverson hopefully doesn’t suspect them, and the necklaces are safe. 

Suddenly, Lance climbs into Keith’s lap, startling him. Keith opens his eyes to see Lance grinning at him, winding his arms around Keith’s neck.

“See, that was fun,” Lance says.

Keith laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, sure, we’ll call that fun.”


End file.
